


Perfect

by the_og_straya



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Kisses, M/M, Mentions of proposals, Spaghetti, Waffles, but are you really surprised, i mean it’s me we’re talking about, pure fluff, rating is for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-03 20:54:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20459306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_og_straya/pseuds/the_og_straya
Summary: Based on the amazing luninosity’s “tales to astonish” because they are an amazing author and I love them with all my heart.Starring Bucky the author, a breakfast, and a pair of rings.





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [tales to astonish](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4656069) by [luninosity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/luninosity/pseuds/luninosity). 

> So as I’ve already said, this is for luninosity because I love all of their works probably more than is healthy. It’s not my usually writing style, not exactly, I know; but luninosity inspired me, and this is more the way they write.
> 
> Also, this shouldn’t be horrible, but it’s also 12:30am and I wrote this in probably half an hour. So please keep that in mind.
> 
> Also, luni, if you’re reading this... I realize Bucky’s pen name in the ‘30s isn’t actually Rebecca Jane Buchanan, based on what you wrote, but I’m hoping I’m allowed that little bit of creative license. I’ll change it if you want, though.

“So, Sam,” Steve says at breakfast, and Bucky wants to punch him, or maybe kiss him, because _that little shit_. “How’d you find that story you lent me?”

Sam just shrugs, too invested in the sausage evading his fork. “It’s good, yeah.” Sausage captured, he looks up and asks, “why?”

Steve shrugs too, a private smile on his lips. “Just wondering what you thought of it.”

“Ooh, a story?” Natasha inquires, lips pursing slightly as she sits. “What about?”

“A romance, actually,” Sam answers, a hint of humor in his voice. “Something to bring me back down after a mission, initially, but it was too good.” He grins and stabs a piece of syrup-drenched waffle.

“Well I’m interested,” Tony adds in from the opposite end of the table, coffee cup clunking on the wood as he sits. “Who’s the author?”

Sam stares at the table. Steve grins at Bucky and goes to grab coffee, and again, _that little shit_. “Jane something, I think? I can’t remember right now.” He shrugs, unaffected, but Tony looks unhappy, and Bucky knows how it is, to not have all the answers.

He sighs and inwardly curses, saying, “Rebecca Jane Buchanan.”

Sam snaps and points at him in lieu of a verbal answer, seeing as how his mouth is currently occupied by a rather impressive bite of waffle and fruit.

“Huh,” Tony says, nonplussed, then, because Bucky has the worst luck in the world, “hey, isn’t that your name? Buchanan?”

“My middle name,” Bucky nods, and Sam narrows eyes at him.

Before he can say anything—or perhaps while he speaks, Bucky doesn’t know anymore—Steve comes back over and smiles at him, one that says _yes, I’m doing this, but you know why, you know it’s for you_, and places a hand on Bucky’s head, tracing the braid running down the center. Bucky loses a couple seconds, thinking about how lucky his life is; to have a best guy who loves him, who kisses him like he’s special, looks at him like he’s special, who nods when Bucky says _I dunno, it’s just me_, and buys him hair ties and nail polish and the brightest sweaters he can find.

In the present, Steve’s eyes get crinkly, and he presses a kiss to Bucky’s forehead before sitting back down, jarring him back into the present conversation. “What was that, Sam?” Steve asks, with an undercurrent directed toward Bucky of _this is for you_, so Bucky listens.

“How’d you know her name, Bucky? I gave the book to Steve.”

Bucky looks at Steve for a second, to gather thoughts and silently ask for help, and receives a motionless shrug in reply, eyes saying _I’ll support whatever you decide_.

God, Bucky loves him. He takes a breath and looks back at Sam after glancing at Tony. “You ever hear of a pseudonym, Sam? A fake name you write under?” He smiles, looks down at his plate to gather thoughts. “Go find some pulp fictions from Brooklyn in the late thirties, and I’ll bet you’ll find an author with the same name.” He shrugs and says around a bite of melon, “There’s only two of us it could be, and it sure as hell ain’t him,” he grins, gesturing to the blond next to him, who’s busy stealing a piece of his waffle. He just grins and shrugs back.

“Okay,” Sam says, slowly, processing, not noticing Natasha stealing a piece of his bacon. “So why didn’t you ask him?” He directs to Steve. “I mean, he’s gotta have some kind of author’s copy, right?”

Bucky grins and says before Steve can, “It’s cause he doesn’t know how to do anything halfway.” Steve grins back, right hand snaking across under the table and finding Bucky’s left, subtly tapping a certain finger, a certain band, and Bucky nods, breath barely not catching.

“Jerk,” Steve says softly, still smiling at him, “you know why, tell him the real reason why. Why I wanted to have an understanding of the book.”

“You mean why you wanted to quote my book at me when you proposed?” Bucky corrects, grinning wide as anything, and Sam splutters.

“Propose?” Natasha asks, suddenly interested again. “There’d better be a ring.”

Bucky chuckles, pulls Steve closer for a heartbeat-fast kiss, then twists around and exposes his left hand to the redhead.

“Oh,” she says, soft, and touches it gentle as anything, looking up at him with a smile. “It’s perfect, isn’t it?” She marvels, and he takes his hand back, looking it over before offering his own small smile.

“Yeah,” he says softly, looking back up at Steve, who’s already leaning in. “It is.”

Steve’s left hand comes up around the back of his neck, and Bucky doesn’t think about it until Natasha makes another interested sound because he’s got his own ring on, _that little shit_.

Bucky just smiles into the kiss, and it’s perfect, and Steve’s perfect, and here with him, Bucky’s perfect, too.


	2. Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by something Luni said in a comment in the first chapter. It’s Tony, Sam, and Nat finding and reading all his stories. There’s not too much actual reading going on, but I hope I hit all the points!
> 
> Also... this is literally 2x as long as the first part. I might as well have split it in have and had 3 chapters the same length. But I didn’t, so. 🤷🏽♀️ Long chapter for y’all!
> 
> Hope you like it, Luni! And everyone else, of course. 😉

With Steve’s hand in his hair, he reflects.

This is nice. Steve is in his regular spot on the couch, Bucky laying with his head on Steve’s lap and his left arm lazily falling off the edge of the couch, fingers loosely curled around Steve’s ankle, halfway falling asleep as Steve reads on his Kindle. Sam is in the armchair catty-corner to them, and Natasha is curled up on the opposite couch. They both have paper books.

Suddenly Natasha begins to read aloud, and Bucky groans as Steve chuckles and redoubles his hair-petting as incentive not to move.

It works, unfortunately, meaning Natasha keeps reading. “And the Lady Jane said, ‘Why Sir Robert, however did you know how to find me?’

‘I simply followed the scoundrel who kidnapped you in the first place,’ he answered in his rich baritone, helping the lady walk across the mire without dirtying herself too much.” She stops then, and Bucky’s sure she’s smirking at him, though he refuses to open his eyes and look. “I’ve gotta say, Bucky, I didn’t know you had this kind of talent.” He groans again, but she continues. “No, I’m serious. These got published for a reason, you know what I’m saying? They sold. People liked them enough to buy them, then liked them enough to remember your own name and pick it up again next issue.”

Bucky sighs, taps Steve’s ankle, mumbles, “Tell her what I told you... ‘bout the art.”

Steve chuckles and traces the line of Bucky’s cheekbone before saying, “He’s self-conscious about it. He knows he’s a good writer, but it’s one thing to know you’re good, and another to have that be acknowledged.”

Again without opening his eyes, Bucky knows Natasha shrugs, and he smiles as he drifts off.

* * *

“I think there was an episode of Spongebob with this plot,” Tony remarks, leafing through another story.

Bucky hums, noncommittal. “I can promise you they weren’t the first to think of it,” he tells Tony, hardly looking up from his phone. “Which one is that?”

Tony holds up the cover, and Bucky squints, not as much to see it as to remember it. “Oh, yeah. I got that idea from another book.”

“Which one?” Steve asks, tapping his pencil on his sketchbook.

Bucky snorts and shrugs. “Hell if I know.” Suddenly he sits up. “Heads up!” He calls to Steve cheerfully, tossing his phone over. “Whaddya think?”

Steve takes a look at the screen and bursts out laughing. “I love it,” he chuckles, tapping on the screen. “I’m buying it. Want the second one, too?”

“Will I use it?” Steve just looks at him until he chuckles. “Okay, yeah, I’ll use it. Sure.”

Steve nods, taps on the screen a couple more times, and tosses the phone back over. Bucky grins at him, wide and cheesy. “Love you for enabling me.”

Steve just snorts. “Dork.”

“Punk.”

“Jerk.”

“Nerd.”

“Am not!”

“Are too. An artsy little nerd.” Bucky hides his grin in his phone, a losing battle if he ever saw one, not caring that Steve sees him anyways.

“See if I ever buy you something again.”

Bucky snorts hard enough he chokes, then starts laughing when Steve does. “I blame you,” he informs the blond, but Steve just shrugs.

“I’ll live.” He smiles softly at the brunet. “I do love you, you know.”

Bucky returns the look. “I love you, too.” A grin slowly spreads across his face. “Otherwise I wouldn’t’a gotten you that one copy of the book.”

At the reminder, Steve’s thumb finds the ring, twisting it around his finger. He opens his mouth, but Tony beats him to it. “Oh, are you getting sappy?” He asks, a sick look on his face. “I’m not here for that. I’ll see you guys later.”

Steve just laughed. “Like we haven’t heard you say sappier things to Pepper.”

“I take offense to that,” Tony says, pointing at Steve, then considers. “Actually, no I don’t, she’s the queen of all good things. Anyways, doesn’t mean I wanna hear it from you.” He shrugs, ambling off. “Please, continue, just once I'm out of earshot. Anything goes except for sex, I’m not getting the couch cleaned.”

Steve and Bucky just look at each other until they hear Tony leave, bursting out into laughter once the door slides shut.

* * *

"Buck!” Steve calls, walking into the kitchen and cutting open the box they had just gotten, pulling out a soft-looking, rainbow-colored piece of material that rather resembles a thneed from the Lorax. “It’s here!”

“Which _it_?” Bucky calls back, taking his time walking into the kitchen. Once he sees it, his eyes widen and his steps quicken. “Ooh!”

Steve laughs and tosses it to the brunet. “Try it on!”

Bucky grins and pulls the sleeve onto his left arm, giggling once it’s on. “Oh, I’m _so_ wearing this to Pride.”

“Looks great,” Steve says, trying to hide the laugh.

Bucky snorts at that. “You absolutely hate it, but you know I love it.”

“No!” He protests. “I don’t! It’s-” he glances at it again and fights to keep a straight face. “It’s just... unusual. It’s gonna take me a minute to get used to.”

Bucky shakes his head with a smile, but he keeps the sleeve on. “Sure, pal. Hey, you hungry?” He crosses over to the fridge.

“Nuh-uh,” Steve reminds, “We’re going to Tony’s in half an hour.”

Bucky frowns. “I don’t remember.” He waves off Steve’s concerned face. “It’s fine, I don’t care either way, I just didn’t know that was happening tonight.”

“You don’t remember?” Steve asks, keeping the hurt out of his voice, even if Bucky can hear it anyways. “We’re going over because—oh,” he finishes, gazing at the brunet. A small, don’t-be-mad-at-me smile made its way onto his face. “Yeah, I didn’t tell you.”

Bucky raises his brows, allowing his mouth to quirk up just that little bit to reassure Steve. “No kidding.”

“I’m sorry,” he chuckles. “I woulda told you if I could.” He moves around the island, arms open towards the brunet. “Forgive me?”

Bucky hums, pretending to think, then laughs and steps into the hug. “Yeah, you big lug, I forgive you.” He grins and leans back to see his face, “but only if you tell me I should wear this tonight.” He raises his left arm, and Steve laughs hard enough Bucky has to hold him up.

Half an hour later, they step onto Tony’s floor and are greeted with the smell of tomato sauce. Bucky turns to Steve with a wide grin. “I don’t care what happens tonight as long as I get some pasta with that sauce on it.”

Steve just chuckles and slips an arm around his waist. “As much as you want,” he promises as they walk towards the kitchen. “Tony?” He calls, looking into the kitchen, then the living room.

“Hey!” He calls back, returning from his room. “Sorry, had a slight sauce incident. When did you get here?”

“Just now,” Steve shrugs. “You’re fine. When’s everyone else getting here?”

Tony shrugs and snorts. “Hell if I know. I wasn’t expecting anyone until six.”

Steve exchanges a glance with Bucky. “It’s six-ten.”

“Is it?” Tony asks distractedly, stirring and tasting the sauce, then moving on to the spaghetti. “Hey, since you’re here, mind setting the table? Everyone’s coming.”

“Sam too?”

“Is Sam part of everyone?” Tony takes a break to have a mini-staring contest with Steve, shrugging and turning away when he’s the first to blink. “Yeah, he’s coming.”

“Is Bruce in the country?” Bucky asks, setting down napkins. “Last I heard, he was in Zimbabwe.”

Tony freezes, searching for answers in bubbling red sauce. “He was. What day’s today? Fri?”

“October twenty-third, Boss. Doctor Banner returned on the twenty-first, though he is not in this building. He is currently residing in an apartment in Bed-Stuy. Would you like me to contact him?”

Tony shrugs, “Might as well. Make sure he knows it’s right now and we value him even if he can’t make it.” He shrugs at the looks the two men give him. “We’ve all got issues,” he says, referring to the value part of his monologue. “He knows I know. We’re good.”

Bucky glances at Steve, then smiles at Tony. “That’s really nice.”

“Nah,” He shrugs. “What’s nice is that thing. I want eight.” He nods at Bucky’s arm, and they all laugh.

Nearly an hour later, Bruce walks in, and their makeshift party is complete.

Pasta is quickly served, and they all traipse out to the living room, choosing their favorite spots. “Dearly beloved,” Tony starts, “we are gathered here today—hey!” He exclaims as the pillow hits his face. Natasha feign innocence. “Would you like to do the honors, Miss Romanoff?”

“Why thank you, Tony, I would love to,” she says seriously, giving everyone else a look that screams _you’re welcome_. They all silently agree.

She turns kind eyes on Bucky, who raises his brows. “So we have a confession to make.” She nods to Tony, who throws a holographic banner onto the walls. _Happy Book-iversary!_ “We all read your books and really liked them. I’m still impressed.”

“Yeah man, I am too,” Sam butts in, smiling. “You’ve been holding out on us.”

Bucky just laughs. “So this is what today was,” he says, smiling at the blond next to him, then at all his friends. “Thank you, you guys. It’s really kind of you to do.”

“Not so fast,” Natasha stops him, not unkindly. “We have something for you.” She conjures up two of his stories from God-knows-where, Sam holds up another two, Bruce another one, Clint three, and even Tony holds one up.

Bucky gives them a confused smile. “I- thanks? But I already have them,” he says, and Natasha’s grin grows.

She hands over one of hers. “Go ahead and open it to any page.”

He frowns quizzically at her then cracks it open to somewhere near the middle, seeing purple ink here and there, pointing to some words, circling others, underlining others. He reads some of the words written in the pen. “Good... Like this... Inspired?” He looks up at her. “You annotated my stories?” He asks, just above a whisper.

“We all did,” she smiles softly at him.

He looks down at the book in his hands, tracing the edge. “Thank you,” he says quietly, finally looking up and acknowledging everyone. “Seriously, thank you guys. This is the most incredible thing that’s ever been done for me.”

He looks back down and frowns at the cover picture. It looks different, yet familiar, and he can’t place it until he sees the signature in the corner. He looks at Steve so fast he’s surprised he didn’t get whiplash. “You-?”

“Yeah,” the blond smiles. “You know I don’t have the patience to sit through things twice, and I already read them. Thought this would be a better use of my time.”

Bucky pulls him close, initially just leaning their foreheads together. “I love you. So much. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, Buck,” Steve chuckles, just as quietly. “And I love you, too. More’n anything.” He tilts his head up, brushing his lips against Bucky’s, then holding still until Bucky responds.

They pull back and Bucky turns to lean against him. “I need to see all of these,” he grins at his friends, smiling even wider when Steve snakes an arm around his waist.


End file.
